


The Deal

by yandere_mccree



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 02:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17013441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yandere_mccree/pseuds/yandere_mccree
Summary: Blackwatch!reader makes an unsavory deal with Agent McCree





	The Deal

Making your way into Blackwatch was no easy task. Not only did you have to be secretly coveted by the Strike Commander himself, there were also the stacks of paperwork and weeks of brutal training. However these all seemed to pale in comparison to assimilating yourself into the culture and attitude of your soon-to-be comrades. 

Blackwatch was a completely different world, it’s recruits being of an entirely different breed. Most were terse, blunt, and rough around the edges with little to no patience with transferees like yourself. Anyone who had initially began their service in Overwatch were looked upon as weak, naive fools with little talent of their own besides their doglike obedience. This stigma didn’t help in anyway by your lack of ability to match the cold, ruthless demeanor of your new peers. 

Luckily, you weren’t alone in finding difficulty fitting into the Blackwatch clothes. There had existed a niche of former Overwatch recruits who had greeted you with open arms. It was a small community but you were eager to make some sort of friends, lest you enter the battlefield with allies who couldn’t care less about your well being. Still, you were driven to prove yourself in the eyes of other Blackwatch recruits in some, however desperate, attempt to gain respect or at least put a stop to the not-so hushed insults directed towards you. 

You were given this chance to prove your worth upon your first review by the infamous Blackwatch Commander, Gabriel Reyes. His reputation amongst newbies such as yourself was surrounded by rumors, ghost stories of a horrid, perverse man behind his charismatic facade. Stories of backwards dealings, blackmail, abuse; it easily evoked a nervous fear in your gut, the mere sight of him was enough to cause you to heighten your senses. A tall man, broad shouldered and clearly just as strong as the Strike Commander himself, his muscles bulged through his uniform and were hugged by the few pieces of armor on his upper body. His eyes matched his intimidating stature with a natural grimace, punctuated by thick, dark eyebrows rising high by his temples and resting downwards towards his tear ducts. When you had first met Commander Morrison, you were struck by his dominant comportment, but what you felt with your first encounter with Commander Reyes was beyond that. Maybe your mind was beginning to feed onto the rumors you’d heard, but what you felt with Commander Reyes had been something closer to trepidation than eagerness.

As you and a handful of new recruits stood at attention for the Commander, a figure crossed the room behind you. From your peripheral, you could tell it was a man, almost as tall as Reyes but that was all you could observe. You kept your face straight, displaying your discipline with a straight posture and feet at the perfect angle. You weren’t impressing anyone yet, but your confidence assured you that you were off to a good start. 

“Morning recruits,” his voice was much warmer than you had expected, a smile almost inching on his face as he spoke. 

“Good morning, Commander,” a choir of soldiers responded, you could hardly hear your own voice within the crowd. 

“Today, as you should know, is your first review. You’ll be tested on your accuracy, agility, and strength. None of this should be new information to you,” he made a gesture to the man in the corner to approach, which he followed, “Agent McCree will oversee your accuracy report, Agent Shimada with review your agility report, and as for myself, I will be there to analyse your strength report. McCree will be taking over from here.”

With a nod, Reyes stepped aside and let Agent McCree take center stage. His appearance struck you even more than the Blackwatch Commander’s. If looks could kill, McCree would be a shot to the head. Yet there was a malice in his eyes that made your stomach turn. 

“Alright, folks. First thing’s first, you’re gonna need a gun before you start shootin’,” a few recruits chuckled, but you stayed stone-faced, not wanting to break your position, “You’ll be provided a practice pistol soon as you enter the shooting range, nothin fancy but it’ll do the trick. You’re gonna be usin’ that pistol to shoot at your targets, simple enough?”

“Yes, sir,” you replied with your peers, you had noticed half of them had gone slack and out of attention. If Agent McCree had noticed he made no effort to correct them. 

The group followed McCree to the shooting range, in which you had only been in a handful of times since joining Blackwatch. You had mostly been focusing on your strength and agility training. Truthfully, you weren’t sure how you’d fare on your accuracy report, but that wasn’t enough to drain your confidence. 

“Alright, who’s first?” 

A few recruits were eager to show off their shooting skills in front of Agent McCree, some biting off more than they could chew. It was reassuring to see those recruits making foolish errors, it set the bar low for you when it was your turn to take the wheel. Eventually, as more and more recruits tried and failed to impress McCree, it had come down to you to take your shot. You made prideful strides to the target range, standing at attention before McCree, accepting the pistol with two hands.

“Well now, little soldier,” you blush at the jocular tone of his voice, “let’s see how well you take to shootin’.”

You gave him a shallow nod and a soft “Yes sir” before attending to your aiming stance. Still a little rusty from inexperience, your stance was awkward and resulted in you aiming completely off target. McCree scoffed, shaking his head in disapproval at your technique. You tried again to readjust yourself to a more comfortable position that proved to only slightly alleviate the issue. Half a bullet hole on the outer frame of the target, you were making progress but you could tell from the other bullet holes that you were far behind the other recruits. Your confidence was shaken, but you tried again to change your position once more and aim for the center of the target… another miss. 

McCree let out a low whistle, reaching to take the pistol from you, “That’s enough for you today,” your cheeks burned as the other recruits laughed at your superior’s comment. Setting the pistol aside and with the tip of his hat, McCree took his leave, “Pleasure meetin’ you folks, good luck with the rest of you training.”

“Sir,” the crowd spoke in unison, your eyes still glued on the target you failed to hit.

The remainder of your training was uneventful. Your strength and agility abilities had been disappointingly average and with your horrendous accuracy report you couldn’t help the feeling of defeat in the pit of your stomach. Once you left the training quarters, your automatic instinct was to sink into the nearest seat and shrink in on yourself. All the confidence you had so proudly claimed before your report had been sucked dry. Were you in over your head in joining Blackwatch? You’d not only overestimated your abilities but had underestimating the skill of your peers. 

“Well, look what I found,” Agent McCree’s smooth, accented words tore you away from your thoughts, “What’s the matter, agent? Bad report?”

His condescending voice brought a defensive scoff from your lips, sounding more like a whimper in your sullen state, “I don’t need you to remind me.”

McCree responded with a low chuckle, tutting at your reply, “That ain’t the kind of attitude you were showing me at the shooting range. Where’d that little soldier go?”

Shocked by his patronising words, if you weren’t so defeated you would make some attempt to fight back with your own venom, but you didn’t have the energy. All your mind could think to muster was a pathetic, “Sorry, Agent.”

You had hope that he would cease any more attempt at conversation after that, yet he seemed to be more allured by your words. His spurs rang through the room as he closed the gap between the two of you, “It’s a shame. A pretty little thing like you slippin’ through my fingers all based on some damn Overwatch formality,” his voice trailed off as he cupped your face with a gloved hand, “Lucky for you, we do things a little bit differently here.”

Something about his firm grip on your chin sapped any protests from you. McCree’s bold behavior and mischievous mocking made your stomach turn. But there seemed to be hope for you yet. You couldn’t help the excitement rising from your voice when you asked, “What do you mean? I can still find some way to fix this?”

Your eagerness excited him, his eyes narrowed as he bit his lip, “That’s right,” he lowered his hand from your face and looped his thumb onto his belt, “I’ll see you in the interrogation room at 22:00 to discuss this matter further, cadet.”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded, McCree giving you a final smirk before leaving you on your own. The nausea in your stomach you held at bay had begun to resurface. Nothing good happened in the interrogation room, but what options did you have? You would be a fool not to make the attempt to redeem yourself with your embarrassing review. 

The hours leading up to your meeting with Agent McCree felt like days as your eyes were glued to the home screen of your phone, constantly checking the time. You tried whatever you could to clear your mind; running the obstacle course, cleaning your locker, organizing your duffel bag, yet you still felt that dreadful anxiety in the pit of your stomach. By the time 21:30 had rolled around, you resorted to pacing the corridors, trying to gain some amount of composure with mini pep talks and some words of encouragement. 

McCree had caught you in the hall trying to steady your breathing. You couldn’t help the hot red that burned on your face when you noticed him approaching, unconsciously hiding your face with a clammy hand. He took your hand from your face as he lead you into the interrogation room, “Relax, ain’t nothin’ to be nervous about.” 

There was no truth in that statement, but it did help calm you. Hearing Agent McCree’s calming tone was reassuring, it had complimented his accent much more than the condescending voice he has spoken with earlier that day. Once he lead you inside the room, he shut the metal door with a soft thud followed by a quiet click as he locked it. You tilted your head and furrowed your brows nervously looking up at him. Out of genuine confusion, you asked, “Why do we need to lock the door?”

“Trust me, cadet. We’re gonna need the privacy,” McCree spoke as he put a hand on your waist. You jumped at the contact, but your suspicions ceased as you saw him reach for a chair with his free hand, “Why don’t you take a seat.”

You nod and happily accept as he seated himself at the other side of you. He lifted a cigar in between his lips, “You mind?” Shaking your head, he proceeded to light it with a swift flick of his lighter. The smell of tobacco began to permeate the room. He spoke between puffs of smoke, leaning back on the steel chair as if it were a recliner “Now, concerning your report, here’s what I can do for you. I could alter your accuracy report, say you passed with flying colors, though we both know that’s far from true. Think that’d be the easiest option, but that’d put you in a precarious position,” 

He paused and took a slow glance at you, “You listenin’ to all this?” You nodded and gave him a reassuring “uh-huh”, to which he smiled. He shifted his attention back to his cigar, taking a long drag before he continued, “Good. So, what I mean by that is, you’ll be sent on missions pertainin’ to that oh so precise eye of yours. However, that ain’t the only option for you. Being as close to the Commander as I am, I get my fair share of pullin’ the strings around here. It ain’t gonna be easy but with some persuasion, I could get the boss to let you continue your service with us. But, that will come with a cost.”

“Why are you doing this for me?” The question had been on you mind since he had made the offer. Hearing McCree describe the loops he was willing to jump through to help you, the question had just slipped past your mouth. He turned his head to you, a delighted smile grew on his lips as if he had been waiting for you to ask that. 

“Don’t think I’m doin’ this out of the kindness of my heart,” he took a short puff of his cigar, smoke billowing from his lips as his tone grew darker, “I expect you to reimburse me generously.”

Something about the sight of him at that moment reminded you of how terrifying McCree truly was. A specially trained agent, top of his class, paid to kill. He had probably looked death in the eyes more times than you could count, a man lightly armored with just a humble six-shooter pistol to defend him. Yet here he was before you, describing to you the reach of his power within one of the most influential covert forces in the world. You bowed your head meekly,, regretting the words that came from your mouth as soon as they left, “I’ll do anything.”

“Get up,” with a pause, you lifted your head and were met with his dark eyes, paralyzed by them for a second before your body proceeded to follow his command. He stood from his seat and made his way towards you, stopping just behind you, “Good, but I’m gonna need you to act faster than that...”

His words trailed as his hand slowly traced the outline of your waist, stopping just above your hips. Your breath was beginning to hitch and you could almost swear you were sweating. McCree closed the gap between your bodies, his size and bulging muscles against you made you feel as if you’d just shrunk two feet, “I think you know what I want, don’t you sweetheart?”

You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips. All this time, he hadn’t even called you by your name. The sound of his affectionate words as his thumb rubbed circles into your hips made your knees weak. McCree caught your open mouth with his own. Wasting no time, he dug his tongue into your mouth. His kiss was aggressive, almost needy as he explored every inch of your mouth with his tobacco-flavored tongue. With a possessiveness to match his kiss, he turned you to face him, holding you impossibly close with an arm as his other hand cupped your face just as he did when he told you to meet him in the interrogation room so many hours ago. 

A tear fell past you closed lid, unsure whether the price of your body was worth a career in a place as corrupt as this. Your mind tried to rationalize your situation, but your body was defiantly squirming in McCree’s arms. Noticing your protest, he held you tighter into him, an unmistakable hot bulge poking into you. You lift your arms in an attempt to break away from him, whimpering into his kiss. Finally, he pulled away, raising your chin so your eyes meet his, “Think carefully about what you’re doin’, darlin’.”

You tried to beg him with your quiet sobs and pleading eyes as he gripped your cheeks hard enough to leave a mark. Unable to bare your desperate appearance, he turned you away from him and bent you over the cold, steel table. It only took one of his hands to keep both your arms in place behind your back as he opened your legs with an armored kneecap. The sound of his belt coming undone was deafening with your choking sobs. 

McCree pulled down your pants and underwear simultaneously in one quick motion, reminding you of just how strong he was. He gently trailed his free hand up your writhing body until it met with the back of your neck, placing enough pressure to subdue you. Your body sinks into the cool surface, lips quivering as you begin to beg, “Please, McCree-“

“Don’t worry, pumpkin,” he lines himself up with your entrance, hard cock eagerly twitching against your soft body, “I’ll be gentle this time.”


End file.
